Fovre bookes of Du Bartas I. The Arke, II. Babylon, III. The Colonnyes, IIII. The Columues or Pyllars: In French and English, for the Instrvction and Pleasvre of Svch as Delight in Both Langvages. By William Lisle ... Together with a large Commentary by S. G. S |
 |
|
|
The end of Adam, and beginning of Nöe.
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
 | Fovre bookes of Du Bartas |  |
The end of Adam, and beginning of Nöe.
Then thus he gan foretel. / The wauy territorieOf people skalie-backt, / all this high vaulted story,
Wherein the thundring God / by his e'rlasting might
Hath placed sentinel / Sunne for day, Moone for night.
The highest Aire, the Mean / wherin the clouds do play,
And this below, the field / appointed for the fray
Of sturdie counterwinds / that with a roaring sound
Throw many a wood that stands / betwixt them, to the ground:
The flower-decked Inne / that lodgeth crazie Man,
Were all by th'awfull word / in six daies made, and than
Was hallowed the seuenth. / In like sort Earth, Sea, Aire,
And th'Azure-guilt that foldes / the world in curtaine faire,
Shall last six other daies, / but long and farre vnlike
The daies that Heauens bright eye / meates-out with golden strike.
That first begins at me, / the next at him that first
Inuented Ship, and taught / dry hills to slake his thirst
With cheerefull iuice of grapes: / the morning of the third,
Is he the mightie Groome / that led his flocke and heard
From home to follow God, / and sacrifizd his Sonne
By faith in heau'nly word / more than by reason woonne.
And he begins the fourth / that had the cannon-sling,
And changed hooke to mace, / great Prophet, Poet, King.
The fift a dismall day / beginneth at the night,
Of that disastrous King / whose last most-rufull sight
Was, of his children slaine, / and Iewes all droue in rankes,
To lead a slauish life / by fat Euphrates bankes.
2
Who sinnelesse, yet for sinne of man is mockt, beat, hong,
And laid in graue. The last is th'euerlasting rest.
Then shall th'embillowed Sea be downe a leuell prest:
The Sunne shall lose his light, Heau'n stay his whirling round,
All fruit shall cease to grow vpon th'all-bearing ground.
And we that haue on earth beleeued Heauenly troaths,
Shall keepe in Heau'nly ioy the Saboth of Sabothes.
Then shall th'embillowed Sea be downe a leuell prest:
The Sunne shall lose his light, Heau'n stay his whirling round,
All fruit shall cease to grow vpon th'all-bearing ground.
And we that haue on earth beleeued Heauenly troaths,
Shall keepe in Heau'nly ioy the Saboth of Sabothes.
What shall I hope (alas) of all the latter age,
Or fierie vengeance sent to burne this worldly stage,
Or men who law'd by lust, nere heard of God, nor me?
What shall I hope of them, when these whose pedegree,
So late from Eden draw'n, continues liuely sense
Of Heau'nly doome on me, when these with mad offence,
Or fierie vengeance sent to burne this worldly stage,
Or men who law'd by lust, nere heard of God, nor me?
What shall I hope of them, when these whose pedegree,
So late from Eden draw'n, continues liuely sense
Gods anger still prouoke? Ha traitor, and rebell soule,
Ha Lamech, was 't a fault so light thy bed to foule:
To third the paire-of-man: that yet more hellish wood,
Needs must thou dip thy blade in double-gransiers blood?
Nor could the Rogues pasport embrant betwixt his browes,
Nor his charge stay thine hand who power infernall bowes?
But Enos, O thou Saint, be bold, and plant againe
The standard of beleefe, which mans vnsteddie braine
Hath laied along the ground: Call-on the Sou'raine Good:
Besprinkle his altars hornes with sacrificed blood:
Send vnto his sacred smell the sweet perfumie clouds,
And Truths bright lampe retinde in Errors ashie shroudes.
See Enoch thy disciple, he with a godly strife,
Still dying to himselfe, liues in the Lord of life.
3
That blazeth lightning-like i'th' essence first diuine:
Lo how deliuered from yoake of bodies weight,
And sequestred from sense, he meats the toplesse height
Of Heau'n, and borne on wing of Fasting, Faith, and Prayer,
Styes vp the tent of Saints embroyd'red all so faire.
He, though a guest on earth, in heau'nly trance doth fall;
Know'th all, seeth all, hath all, in God that's all in all.
He passing each degree, from forme to forme ascends,
And (O most happie man) in Gods owne likenesse ends:
For lo, th'All-goodly-faire him for his vertue loues,
And, not in part, but all, from earth to heau'n remoues.
Gone art thou? art thou gone vnto the starrie blew?
Adieu my sonne Enoch, adieu my sonne, adieu.
Liue happie there on high, thy body now a sprite,
Or changed wondrously to shape of Angell bright,
Puts-on eternitie; thine eyes now no more eyes,
But newly-flaming starres, do beautifie the skies.
Thou drinkest now thy fill of Nectar wine, thy day
Of Saboth neuer ends; the vaile now draw'n away,
Thou seest God face to face, and holily vnite
Vnto the Good Three-one thou liu'st i'th infinite
An Angell new: but lo thou leauest here behind
Men of vnbounded lust, their hands rake all they find,
Their bellie like a gulfe is euer gluttonous,
Their tongue malitious, their bodie incestuous.
Yea (would a man beleeu't?) the very chosen race,
And holy peopl' of God, th'adopted sonnes of grace,
They are (alas) the men most impudent of all;
They gallop after sinne with bit in teeth, and fall
T'embrace in lustfull heat mans daughters lewd and vaine,
Profanely tempering the blood of Seth and Cain:
So with a shamelesse eye they choose the gawdy face
Before the godly mind: From these foule beds a race
Of Gyants (God knowes what) spring vp with bloodie minde,
4
Then God who sees that sinne more by the long delay
Of his reuenging hand encreaseth day by day,
Is angrie and now no more will plead the reason why;
But man an all for man will sodainly destroy:
At least what ere with wing doth clip the yeelding aire,
Or haunt in mortall state the land so richly-faire.
With one hand sets he ope the windowes of the skie,
Whence on mens rebell heads there falleth from on hie
A thousand showrie seas; he gripes i'th' other hand
The soaken spongie globe of th'all defiled land,
And sets it hard in presse, and makes it cast anon
What flouds it euer dronke sen first the world began.
From euery vaulted rocke great riuers gin to flow,
And downe-hill so encrease with flouds of moulten snow,
That Firre and Cedar trees scarce any bow do show,
The water swol'n so hie, and bankes are sunke so low.
O what posteritie for want of skill to swimme,
Loose I within these gulfes, yet some full brauely climme
The craggie peakes of hills, t'escape the raging deepes,
And grapple about the rockes, but (ah) the wat'r vp creeps,
And lesning all these hills makes all the world a meere.
My children whither now? O whither can you steere
From God, but vnto God? whose anger hath shooke the world
Quite cut-off all your legs, in flood your bodies horld.
Now grows ye flood so high that th'erth is more then drownd
The riuers and the sea haue all one onely bound,
To wit, a clowdy skie, a heau'n still full of raine,
As trauelling with child of many another maine,
To make me childerlesse. O father miserable!
O too-to fruitfull reines! O children dammageable!
O gulphes reuealed for me that were before vnknown!
O end of all! O world enwrackt and ouerflow'n!
O Heau'n! O mightie sea! O land now no more land!
O flesh and blood! but here his voice began to stand;
For sorrow stopt the pipe, and ny of life bereft him:
So fall'n a swoond with griefe the Prophet Spirit left him.
| Fovre bookes of Du Bartas | |